Monday, February 20, 2012


Today, at the nursing home, while I did an ultrasound treatment on a woman's shoulder, we talked. She has lived all her life in the small town where I went to church, and she knows virtually everyone.

Today, she talked about the fun they used to have. She talked about Lee, and I have always know him as the elderly man who, with his wife, has held down the other end of our church pew. But this woman got dreamy eyed, and she talked about how he was a wonderful musician. "We all used to go down and sit by the river, and he would play his guitar and we would all sing. He always sang, "Old Shep" and he sang it so well that all the girls would cry." She went on to mention other names, and I recognized many of them, and imagined them young and fresh faced, sitting around a camp fire on the bank of the Conewango Creek in that still-sleepy little town

It was neat to hear how they were before they became what I know now.

When I helped her back to her room, she said, "I'm a foolish woman who likes to remember." I said, "I like to hear what you remember," and I could tell that it pleased her to hear this, although all she said was, "Just give me a tap when I talk too much. Tell me to shut up."

I handed her her oxygen tubing and made sure that her call bell was within her reach. "You'll be waiting a long time before I get tired of hearing you talk."


Mikey said...

I truly think you have found your calling. The comfort and kindness you give people is so inspiring.

Jayne said...

Memories keep people young and alive :)

BUSH BABE said...

I can almost see these people blooming after you touch their lives...

Anonymous said...

Thank you for caring so deeply for people, it seems to be an emotion that is lacking in some people today.

Kelly said...

Listening is a skill, and one you obviously have.